


The Travelling Sense Of Home

by tielan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Road Trip, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-27
Updated: 2011-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-15 03:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lorne can laugh all he likes. John is going to show his team the Happiest Place On Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Travelling Sense Of Home

Somewhere between Cheyenne Mountain and the state line between Colorado and New Mexico, the headaches begin.

John first notices when he finds Teyla browsing the shelves of a Walgreens in Monticello, running her fingers thoughtfully along the shelf with a slightly drawn expression and a thoughtful look on her face. "You okay?"

She looks up at him as he approaches, a smile gracing her features. "It is nothing. A headache."

He studies her face a moment, then nods. "Well, we'll be back on the road after this." He grins. "California, here we come!"

Teyla just smiles at the reference - he's made it several times this trip - and picks a box of Advil off the shelf before she makes her way to the register. "How many more days before we reach California?"

John opens his mouth to answer and pauses as Rodney's voice carries through the across the aisles. "Put that back! No, we're not going to get any of tha-- And not that either, I'm allerg-- No! Have you even read the contents of the packet? Look, they're right here and I know you can read English--"

He looks back at Teyla with a wince. "Too many."

She just laughs, then.

\--

Two days later at Four Corners, John looks for her among the tourists browsing through the Native American stalls.

Ronon's leaning against one of the wooden railings, his hands tucked in the pockets of a pair of jeans that are already looking worn.

"Seen Teyla?"

Broad, bare shoulders shrug. Ronon's not worried, even if John is. "Thought she was going to the bathroom."

John glances over at the brown brick structure, then turns as a familiar voice rises into the heat-fried air of the tourist attraction. "You know, I remember coming here when I was twenty," Rodney says ebulliently chewing on a churro. "They didn't have most of these things." He waves the half-eaten dough twist in Ronon's face. "A bit sugary, but very nice."

Ronon regards the twist with interest. Then, faster than John sees and Rodney can react, he leans forward and bites off a good two inches of the churro.

"Hey!" The smaller man protests as Ronon chews the sweet thoughtfully. "That was _my_ churro."

"You can buy another," comes the reply. "And you can get me one, too." The smirk on Ronon's face is both amused and affectionate as he looks at the astrophysicist.

Lemons were never as sour as Rodney's expression. "Do I _look_ like your devoted slave?" Abruptly, his expression changes and he wags a finger at the Satedan. "Don't even _think_ of answering that."

Rodney storms off towards the churro stand, and Ronon gives John a toothy grin and lopes after him.

John has a feeling he’s missing something.

\--

After another circuit of the stalls, and with the nagging feeling that he's missing something, John finds Teyla sitting on a low brick wall facing northwards.

He saunters up and takes a seat beside her without asking. "Not buying anything?"

She holds up a small plastic bag for him to see. "I have made my purchases." There's a curiously subdued quality about her. Teyla's never ebullient, but her initial delight in Earth seems to have vanished. John hazards a guess.

"Headaches again?"

"A little," she says. "Not as painful as this morning." She glances up at the cloudless sky overhead, at the vivid blue of an Arizona-New Mexico-Colorado-Utah midsummer. "It may be your sun."

John glances up at the sun that feels right - the right colour, the right light, not to bright or too white. Atlantis might be home for his heart, but there's something about being on Earth that his body recognises as being where he belongs. "We can go sit in the car and wait for the others," he offers.

Teyla gives him an odd look, but shakes her head. "There is no need," she says. "I am well enough." Her glance behind them skims the area, looking for their team-mates.

"They went to get some more food," John says. "Ronon kept eating Rodney’s churros. Are you sure you're okay?"

"It is better now than it was this morning," she says. If it’s supposed to comfort him, it doesn’t. "And it grows less when we are on the road."

John stands and offers her a hand up. "We should be moving on anyway."

\--

That night, they eat at Dennys, they sleep at a motel just off the I40 and things seem fine.

Next morning, Teyla is smiling, but she shushes Rodney when he chatters on at breakfast.

“Just because _some_ of us didn’t get a good night’s sleep...”

“We are not all as solid sleepers as you, Rodney,” Teyla says with a little more shortness than usual. “Especially not when our room-mates snore.”

“I do not snore!” Rodney snaps.

“Yes, you do,” comes the solid reply from three corners of the table.

Rodney isn’t pleased by the collective admission of his habit, and sulks for most of the morning as he drives the morning leg of the trip towards Albuquerque. His choice of music is very unlike John’s - symphonic classical, with a leaning towards piano concertos.

If John’s going to listen to classical music, he wants something light: Mozart or Mendelssohn.

So, it seems, does Ronon. “Your taste in music is _leitheica_ ,” he tells Rodney when they stop for gas and food. The Satedan word doesn’t need translation - not in the tone that Ronon delivers it.

“Ronon.” Teyla’s voice rises like a mother’s chiding, disembodied from the junk food aisle.

John rolls his eyes and leaves Rodney to take offence. Their voices - Rodney’s penetrating complaint and Ronon’s wry amusement - carry through the shop, making patrons turn in curiosity and annoyance. He tunes them out for the moment - he’ll have words with Rodney later about making scenes in public places.

Teyla is contemplating Tootsie rolls. And Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups. And Snowballs. John reaches past her and snags four Tootsie rolls.

“They will have to roll us up the ramp to the...” She hesitates, glancing around as another person wanders up their aisle. “To the gate so we can go home.”

John grins. “It’s a vacation, Teyla,” he says and adds Snowballs to her basket. “Enjoy it.”

If she was any other woman she’d be shaking her head. Instead, she just smiles, before turning thoughtfully to the shelf and taking two packets of Peanut Butter Cups.

But John notices that she detours past the medical aisle for another box of Advil.

\--

“And nobody, nobody knows,” Rodney says with something bordering on glee as a local guide wanders past telling stories to credulous tourists at the local information centre.

John snorts. Teyla and Ronon are moving through the exhibits, pointing out the various speculations and stories to each other, and probably making wry fun of the weird Earthlings and their even more bizarre beliefs.

Easy enough for them: they had a Stargate with which to access other planets.

Both John and Rodney found the thought of letting two _real_ aliens wander around Roswell too amusing to resist. Elizabeth sighed and probably silently wondered what she’d done in a former life to deserve this, and Carson and Caldwell washed their hands of them.

Laura Cadman, on the other hand, helpfully suggested sites to look at - information centres, local attractions. Then she suggested the nearby arroyos leading down to the Pecos Plains as somewhere suitable to lose Rodney.

“It’s not like they stand out,” says John.

Rodney makes a noise of disgust. “Of _course_ they stand out. I mean, most of the men in the room have been eyeing Teyla since we walked in. And Ronon’s...well...impressive.”

John blinks. “Impressive?”

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just an interesting choice of word.”

“What’s wrong with my choice of word? I mean, he’s tall and dark and...and handsome.” Rodney’s flushing - going a real shade of pink here. “Women like that kind of thing.”

Okay. Defensiveness not expected. John eyes his team-mate, both amused and disturbed that Rodney’s getting hot under the collar about a description of Ronon. “Look, it’s just not the first thing that comes to mind with Ronon.”

“So what _is_ the first thing that comes to mind?”

“Oh...dangerous. Competent. Big.”

In the confines of the information centre, Ronon certainly seems oversized compared to his petite companion.

And to John’s eyes, they both look...normal. Ronon’s in worn jeans and a white wifebeater that shows off his shoulders and arms and is getting him a lot of interested looks by women, young and old, in the information centre. Teyla’s in hipsters and a light shirt with her hair pinned up. She looks...normal. Ordinary in a human way. And a bit tired.

“They don’t stand out,” he repeats. “Not that way.”

\--

Albuquerque is just a place to stay the night before heading west to Anaheim. Yeah, John’s still a kid at heart; they’re going to Disneyland.

Lorne can laugh all he wants, but John _is_ going to show his two alien team-mates the Happiest Place On Earth.

At the Albuquerque Marriott, John finds himself sharing a suite with Teyla since Ronon offered to share with Rodney. Teyla seemed relieved; oddly enough, so did Rodney.

There are two beds in the suite, of course - big, queen sized ones. John knows better than to trust himself sleeping in the same bed as a woman to whom he’s still attracted, even if they’re just friends.

Teyla lies down on her bed the instant they dump their duffles, hauling the pillow half into her arms and tucking her hand under her cheek. She’s asleep minutes later, so John parks himself on his bed and watches TV with the headphones that the hotel has so thoughtfully provided.

During the ad breaks, however, he reflects that she’s looking a bit peaky, and wonders if maybe he should call Carson. The doc might have an idea about the headaches.

Ronon’s having no trouble with Earth’s climate - at least, nothing that causes him any discomfort. Then again, John remembers wincing his way through the operation to remove the Wraith tracking device - and it wasn’t even _his_ back. Ronon endured that surgery without painkillers or anaesthetic; this isn’t a guy who’s going to complain of sunburn.

Then again, Teyla’s the ‘stiff upper lip’ sort as well - unlike Rodney. And she hasn't admitted to anything without John actually asking first.

He wonders how bad it really is and lets her sleep.

At seven, however, impending hunger forces him to lean across her bed to shake her awake. “Teyla?”

She mumbles something in her native tongue. It doesn’t sound like language a nice Athosian should know. In revenge and a spirit of light playfulness, he bounces on the bed to wake her up. “Dinnertime, Teyla.”

One dark lash lifts to show a stony gaze. “Go away, John.”

“If you’re feeling bad, some dinner will probably help,” he tells her, unrepentantly. “Besides, you remember what happened the last time you left me with Rodney and Ronon for a dinner.”

“Are there tribes here who will demand your seed to impregnate their daughters?” Teyla asks, opening both eyes. “Because if not, then I will go back to sleep.”

"Very funny." He pokes her shoulder. “Come on, Teyla. Just dinner. You can do it.”

\--

Teyla manages dinner, seems fine for the rest of the evening, and is asleep before John finishes with the bathroom. He notes that she’s hugging the pillow again and sneaks a digital snapshot without waking her up.

The morning flight out into John Wayne Airport, in Orange County, is busy with people of all ages and not a few families.

She seems fine until they settle into the seats for the shuttle to the Disneyland Grand Californian Hotel, and John notes that she immediately leans her forehead against the window glass and closes her eyes.

When they get out at the hotel, John takes her duffel, and Ronon hauls out her case and hurries after Rodney before she can reach either the suitcase or him. Teyla regards his retreating form with irritation, then turns to John. “I am not an invalid.”

“Look, you’re clearly not on your game, we’re just looking after you.” When that doesn’t seem to convince her, he adds, “We’re being nice.”

Teyla laughs, but softly. “Are you?” Still, she doesn’t try to take the duffle off him until they reach the desk. That says a lot about how bad things must be.

By dint of some glowering at the tourists, Ronon secures an elevator for just the four of them.

“You know, if you’re not feeling too well, we can call Beckett and get him out here.”

There are times when John wonders how Rodney’s managed to reach his mid-thirties without being murdered for sheer bluntness. Teyla’s face shuts down faster than a laptop when the power cord is yanked out.

“I am fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Rodney obviously has a death wish. “You say you are but you’re not. Look, it’s _us_ , Teyla. Remember when I nearly died from lemon poisoning?” At everyone’s looks, Rodney amends that statement. “Okay, so I was in the infirmary for a day. You all fussed over me. That’s what friends do. They fuss.” He stares hard at John as though daring him to say anything. “In a totally non-effeminate way, I might add.”

John doesn’t have the faintest idea where effeminacy even came into the conversation. But he’s used to Rodney’s odd trains of thought by now; it’s best to just let them go through the station without question. And, at one level, he agrees with Rodney - although he wouldn’t have used the word ‘fuss’.

Teyla stares at the door, her expression still closed. But she lets them take the luggage to their suite, and slips the room keycard from John’s shirt pocket as they approach the suite to hold open the door as they haul the cases inside.

Her acquiescence worries him almost as much as the fact that she goes to lie down and is asleep before the guys have finished sorting out whose bed is whose.

\--

“She’s not sleeping well,” John tells Carson that afternoon, making the call down in the lobby so Teyla doesn’t overhear. Ronon and Rodney have vanished into ‘Disneyland Downtown’ and John is beginning to wonder if those two aren’t planning something. They’ve been thick as thieves of late.

“Because of the headaches?” Carson sounds considering, although he’s got to be a little peeved off that John’s calling him at this hour. It’s late in Scotland. “Ronon’s not showing any signs--?”

“Ronon’s Ronon.”

“Aye, I see your point.” The doc sighs. “Well, if it’s the sun, then there’s not much we can do about that. Keep her out of it, let her get her rest, and keep an eye on her. If things get worse, we might have to get her to medical care. Disneyland tomorrow?”

“First day,” John says with satisfaction. “How’s your mom?”

“My mother’s well. She claims there are more lines on my face and wonders what the Air Force is doing to me.” In spite of the wry humour in the accented voice, familiarity points out the bitter note in Carson Beckett’s voice. The doctor’s mom isn’t the only one wondering what the Air Force is doing to him.

John knows what the Air Force does to a man. He can sympathise.

John pauses in the lobby of the hotel, looking around at the people moving past him, on their way in or on their way out, laughing, chattering, careless, who’ve never heard of the Wraith or the Goa’uld, who don’t know how fragile or rare is their state of being in the universe - alone and unmolested by any alien overlords.

In Roswell, it seemed more comedic than anything else; in Anaheim, it seems...precious.

Sometimes John wonders what his life would have been like if he’d never known about the Stargate, Atlantis, or the Wraith. A man about his own age and colouring walks by with a wife and two children, his youngest son hoisted in his arms and wearing a mouseketeer cap.

Maybe it would have been satisfying; but on the other hand, he’d never have known the people he does, or be in Anaheim with his team, escorting two aliens around Disneyland.

His sense of satisfaction lasts until he goes upstairs and finds Teyla curled up in a ball on the floor of the suite, nearly sobbing from the pain.

\--

Rodney lifts an eyebrow when he finds John sitting on the bed with Teyla’s head in his lap. She’s been resting for a while now. “Did you guys want some privacy?”

John gives him a sour look at the exaggerated whisper and his glare shuts Ronon up before the other man can say _anything_. “I called Beckett and the SGC. They’re on alert - if we need to, we can get her airlifted to March AFB for care.”

“We don’t know what it is?” Ronon asks, sitting down in a chair.

“She said something about the sun when we were back at Four Corners,” John says. He’s angry and frustrated and worried, although he’d never say that to anyone and certainly not to these two who already know.

He hates being helpless, and all the more because it’s Teyla. He’s responsible for her - and Ronon, although the other man’s fine - because he brought them here and got their hopes up. He thought this would be a great vacation for the four of them, but all Teyla’s been getting from this trip is a headache.

There’s something inherently unfair in that, to John’s thinking.

He notices both Rodney and Ronon giving him weird looks. Then he realises he’s smoothing his hand across Teyla’s hair, the fine strands beneath his fingers. Stupid protective instincts. He takes his hand away and silently dares them to say even a word.

“ _I_ feel fine,” Ronon says after an awkward moment.

Rodney’s look oozes scorn. “You lived on a planet where the daily UV index was a thousand for _how_ long? Of _course_ you feel fine!”

“So, what do we do?” John notes that Ronon looks the way he feels. They understand each other, he and Ronon. They’re better at action than inaction, but there’s nothing they can do.

“We continue on as we have been doing.” They all look at Teyla as she opens her eyes. “Tomorrow, we will go to Disneyland.”

“We don’t have to, you know,” John says as she sits up. His thigh feels cold after she’s lain there for the last half-hour. And his flesh starts tingling with pins and needles from the lack of blood flow. “We can wait until you’re feeling better.”

Teyla shifts over to the other side of the bed, filching one of the pillows that John used to prop himself up while he watched the Disney channel. “I do not think that it will be any time soon,” she says and smiles. The smile is convincing, but none of her team-mates believe it for a second. “I will be fine.”

\--

She’s not so fine when she collapses in the middle of New Orleans Square.

Ronon catches her, Rodney catches the stick of cotton candy, and John leads the way to the nearest First Aid station.

“It’s just the heat,” Rodney explains to the concerned First Aid workers as they lay Teyla down on the bed. “She’ll be fine.”

John’s not so sure about that. She seems small and still on the gurney amidst the various people suffering from allergic reactions, asthma attacks, or being bandaged up after scraping knees and bashing elbows. They try to revive her, but nothing works.

“She didn’t hit her head did she?”

“Maybe against Ronon’s shoulder,” John retorts. Something in him is growing cold and panicky, and he leaves them to it, steps outside the First Aid station and calls Carson.

“All right. Elizabeth’s in DC, she should be able to pull enough strings to get you airlifted out of Anaheim and over to March Air Force Base. I can take a flight over--”

“Oh, stay where you are,” John says, trying to sound nonchalant. “The docs at March can deal with this - can’t they be passed your notes on her physiology?” And there’s no reason that anyone else’s vacation should be interrupted.

Carson sounds uncertain of that. “Well, I’ll call Elizabeth and get things moving anyway. Sounds like you have enough on your hands.”

That’s one way to put it.

The paramedics have arrived and are asking questions about Teyla’s history. John sends Rodney and Ronon out and answers the questions without lying once.

“Does she have any history of allergies? Diabetes?”

“None. She’s pretty healthy. Active lifestyle, there’s never been trouble before.” Of course ‘before’ was in another galaxy, but John doesn’t say that. “She’s been having headaches for the last couple of days. We drove down from Colorado and she kept having headaches. We thought that it was the sun, so she kept out of it...”

He’s babbling so he shuts up.

John can deal with Afghanistani freedom fighters, Wraith trying to suck the life from his chest, Gennii double-crossing him at every turn, and Rodney McKay in a bad mood, but he’s beginning to feel the pressure now.

He can’t do _anything_ but stand and watch. And he hates it.

“Did she hit her head as she fell? Before she fell?”

“No. She was fine. We were walking through the park and she just...collapsed.”

“Well, we’ve called an ambulance to get her to hospital.”

Uh-oh. Hospital is not good. For starters, Teyla doesn’t have insurance.

And then there’s that whole ‘low profile’ thing, too.

\--

Elizabeth calls halfway through an argument where Rodney is pissing off the Disneyland paramedic. The man has a God-given gift, John would swear by it.

“How is Teyla?”

“Still unconscious. We really need a ride out of here to the nearest helipad. What have you got us?”

She’s got them a ride from Anaheim to March; but getting Teyla to the helipad is a problem. The ambulance is due here any minute.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Elizabeth says briskly. “How are you guys doing?”

“Well, other than the headaches, it’s been fun,” John says. “Ronon and Rodney are enjoying themselves anyway.”

“And you?”

“I could do without the worry,” he admits. “But Teyla was enjoying the trip when she was okay.” And he was enjoying himself, too - watching his team-mates’ reactions to Earth was...nice. Like he was giving them some really cool memories that they’d treasure.

Well, he likes to think that they’ll treasure this time.

Maybe not so much.

“Not so fun now?” Elizabeth asks. “General Adamson knows you’re coming in and there’ll be a doctor who knows about the Stargate project and alien physiology there when you arrive.”

“Thanks. I’ll be leaving Rodney and Ronon here in Anaheim. They’ll probably get a direct flight back to the mountain when they check out.”

“You’re leaving Rodney and Ronon unsupervised in Disneyland?” Elizabeth sounds more amused than alarmed, and John shrugs although she can’t see him out in the bright California sunlight that probably got them into this situation in the first place.

“At least it’s not Vegas,” he points out.

Elizabeth chokes at the thought and ends the call.

\--

“What?” Both Rodney and Ronon stare at him as he tells them what’s happening.

“There isn’t any need for all of us to go,” John says. “So you guys are going to stay here.”

“And if we want to go with Teyla?”

“Then too bad,” John says, staring Ronon down. This is his home territory, he knows the rules, and he knows who to speak with to get things to happen. He understands the other man’s frustration, but he feels it himself, and he can do something. Ronon can’t. “You can make your way over when you’re done here - at least have lunch before you come around. We’ll be over at March AFB - call Elizabeth if you need access.”

“Call us,” is all the response Rodney gives as the paramedics finish loading Teyla into the ambulance and glance around.

“Any of you family members?”

Ronon opens his mouth but John’s faster. “I am.” He tells the lie without blinking, and hopes that the paramedics aren’t looking at the Satedan guy - and that Rodney’s face isn’t betraying them. “Partner.”

John knows the drill. If he’s not a family member, they won’t let him ride. The older paramedic gives him a once over but doesn’t question him as he closes the back doors on Teyla and his colleague. “Hop in, then. Just don’t touch anything and don’t talk to me.”

John isn’t in much of a talking mood anyway.

A few minutes out of Disneyland, the dispatcher bleeps and the radio redirects them to the Los Alamitos airstrip.

The older guy takes his eyes off the road for a split second to regard John as the redirection call comes through on his cellphone. “Los Alamitos?” He asks in disbelief.

John just shrugs and focuses on Teyla. “For the complete vacation,” he says.

Yeah, this trip to Earth was such a _great_ idea.

\--

At March AFB, a Dr. de Villiers - recently inducted into the wonders of the Stargate program - takes charge. She’s blonde and large and brisk and surprised. “She’s really an alien?”

“She’s not from Earth,” John says shortly.

The doctor eyes her notes. “Well, I have the files from...hm...the Jaffa Teal’c, Jonas Quinn, and the ones your Dr. Beckett provided about her and Ronon Dex. We’ll start with the basics and work from there.”

Four hours later and they’re no closer to knowing what the problem is. There’s no cranial hemorrhaging, no pulse irregularities. Her brainwaves are consistent with a coma, and she’s on an IV drip with a heart monitor attached.

And Dr. de Villiers is stumped.

It is, as usual, Rodney who provides the solution.

He and Ronon find John sitting in one of the briefing rooms in the base, elbows on the table, a cold pot of coffee in the centre, and assorted cups scattered around. She hasn’t woken up, and her vitals are slowly but surely falling. Dr. de Villiers is in conference call with Carson, and it’s got to be at least 0200 hours in Scotland, but they’re discussing every possible reason for Teyla’s unconsciousness.

“I’ve had a thought,” Rodney announces without so much as a, ‘Hi, how are you?’ “It’s the Wraithgene.”

Right now, Rodney is the last person John wants to see, because they’ll probably get into a yelling match and John doesn’t have the energy for that. “She knows what the Wraith feel like - she’d have said if there were any Wraith--”

“ _Not_ the Wraith,” says the astrophysicist. “The Wraith _gene_! That thing that allows her to hear the Wraith coming.”

“There aren’t any Wraith on Earth.”

“No, but there are six billion humans.” Rodney turns to Ronon. “Largest population on a planet in the Pegasus galaxy?”

Ronon shrugs. “Ten thousand, maybe.”

A finger is pointed in his direction. “Exactly. Even Atlantis only has several hundred personnel in it. There might be as many people in the entire Pegasus galaxy as there are on Earth alone.”

John’s head feels slightly muzzy, but he thinks he’s getting the point. “You’re saying that Teyla hears ordinary minds as well?”

“Maybe not clearly, like the Wraith, but most humans don’t have any form of telepathy. Maybe it’s just like having a humming in your head. And six billion people humming can be noisy.”

“She’s very aware of us,” Ronon notes.

“One might say hyper-aware,” Rodney says. “Back in the mountain, you were boasting to Romarov that Teyla was way better than his 2IC - and that she wasn’t even military.”

“I wasn’t boasting,” John says. It was a _discussion_ , brought on by Romarov’s open admiration of John’s team-mate. John just felt that he should let the other man know that Teyla was fully weapons-competent as well as more than capable of kicking his ass should a hand be placed wrong.

Rodney shrugs. “It sounded like it. Anyway, my point is that we know Teyla has some basic telepathy - or empathy, whatever - and there’s a lot of difference between a planetary population of ten thousand and a planetary population of six billion. Once we get her off Earth--”

“But we can’t reach Pegasus without a ZPM.”

Rodney gives him the ‘you’re being stupid, flyboy’ look. “Please. Like the Stargate only goes to Pegasus? You can access any planet with a Stargate in the Milky Way galaxy!”

He knew there was a reason he kept Rodney around. Irritating and all, the man has genius.

Just never tell him that.

“Have you mentioned this to the docs?”

\--

“It could be,” Carson admits. “We’ve never really studied that aspect of Teyla’s abilities. She’s not comfortable with it. Well,” he says, “I guess the only way to find out...”

“...is to get off-world.” John goes to find the base commander for a transfer flight from March to the Academy in Colorado Springs and leaves Rodney and Carson to argue over speculation.

Ronon lopes alongside him, like the proverbial dog. “Are we coming, too?”

“No. You’re going to stay here and finish the trip here. I’ll go with Teyla.” John glances at Ronon. “You okay being left with Rodney?”

“We’ll manage.” Ronon’s been around him too long - the man sounded almost dry for a moment there.

“You don’t have to do the road trip past Vegas,” John feels compelled to say. “If you want, you can just get a direct flight back to Cheyenne. You might prefer that anyway after a few days with Rodney.”

The flight is arranged, the docs are thanked, Ronon and Rodney are given instructions for dealing with John and Teyla’s luggage back at the hotel. John isn’t about to send Teyla off-world without at least one familiar face nearby.

He sits in the chair beside her on the flight and listens to the familiar-and-unfamiliar noise of the plane as he stares at the shadowy outlines of Teyla’s face beneath the O2 mask. He’s thinks that he’s been spoiled by the puddlejumpers - they’re so quiet and neat compared to Earth planes.

John thinks he might have been spoiled by a lot of things in the Pegasus galaxy.

Rodney offered to call Elizabeth and get things organised at the mountain end so John didn’t have to worry about it. So when they get to the mountain, there are SGC personnel waiting to escort them into the base, and John’s a little surprised to recognise Colonel Carter.

“A bit late to be on duty?”

She shrugs, smiling. “I’m usually on base pretty late.” Her eyes track behind him to the gurney on which they’ve got Teyla. “Trouble?”

“Six billion people thinking in her brain,” John says.

“Ah.” Carter takes another glance behind. “No McKay?”

“I left him behind with Ronon.”

“You left him--”  She controls her expression pretty quickly, but John saw the disbelief and just keeps going.

“We need a planet, friendly, without too large a population. Decent medical facilities, just in case.”

Carter nods. “Dr. Weir called. General Landry’s authorised me to escort you to the Alpha site.” At his sideways look, she clarifies, “I was headed out there tomorrow morning to do some testing anyway. This is just stepping things up a little. And you need someone to vouch for you.”

“Thanks.” So he’s a bit short on the effusiveness, but he’s had a long day. “Not exactly the vacation I had planned.”

“It’s not Earth,” Colonel Carter says, with a slight smile. “But it has a great view.”

\--

Six hours after they transfer Teyla through the gate to the Alpha Site, John’s snoozing in a chair at the medical facility.

When Colonel Friedman tried to persuade him to take a bunk, he wedged himself into his chair until Carter came by. “There’s no point trying to persuade him, Friedman. He’ll be there until his team-mate comes out of it.”

It’s a sixth sense that wakes John up when Teyla stirs. He’s on his feet beside her bed when her eyes open, and he breathes a silent sigh of relief. “Hey there.”

Teyla blinks at him, her eyes opening wide as she takes in their surroundings. “We are not on Earth anymore.”

He doesn’t ask how she knows. “Alpha site. You collapsed in Disneyland.” When she tries to sit up, he pushes her back down to the bed, glad of the contact. “We were really worried.”

She looks away from him, surprise touching her face. “My headaches are gone!”

“You can thank Rodney for that,” he tells her. “He was the one who thought to get you off-world. Apparently Earth has too many people for your mind to manage all at once, so it shut down.”

For the first time in days, her smile doesn’t have the slight edge of forcedness to it. “I will thank Rodney, then.” She pauses, almost as if she’s mentally reaching out for their team-mates. “They are not here?”

“I left them in Disneyland,” he admits.

Teyla stares at him a moment, then smiles. She seems to be attempting to hold back a laugh. “You _left_ them in Disneyland? Alone?”

Why does everyone make a point of that?

“I had other things to think about,” he protests. Teyla immediately sobers.

“I am sorry to interrupt your vacation, Colonel.”

“It was your vacation as much as mine,” he points out. “And we didn’t know that Earth would produce such a reaction. I’m more sorry about that.” He sighs. “You would have really enjoyed Disneyland. And Vegas.” Now that he thinks about it, he’s appalled. “We never got to see Vegas!” Oh well, perhaps there’s an equivalent planet for Vegas in the Milky Way?

Teyla’s regarding him with a smile. “Thank you, Colonel.”

He looks away. “I just wanted to show you guys some of Earth.”

“And you did,” she reminds him.

“But you missed the good parts. And had headaches.”

“I caught up on my sleep,” Teyla says solemnly. But for all that, she’s definitely laughing at him in her eyes. “Which is more than can be said for you, I believe.”

“I’ve slept.”

“Not very well.”

Impulsively, John slips his hand into hers and grins. “Yeah, well, I will now.”

\--

Colonel Carter wasn’t kidding about the view.

John stares out at an oceanic mist that begins less than six yards behind the Stargate and fills up a huge crevasse that ends in a distant, reddish-brown mountain range.

“Does Earth have comparable views to this?” Teyla asks from a few feet away. Above her, the sky is a rich purple colour, vivid and intense - tinged with pink and gold in the east where the sun is due to rise.

“Of course it does,” Rodney says. “Probably. Somewhere. Did we have to get up this early?”

“You weren’t going to do anything but sleep,” John tells him, unrepentant.

John wasn’t terribly surprised when their team-mates turned up at the Alpha site a day later, having blown off Disneyland, Vegas, the Grand Canyon, and the Utah State National Parks.

“You did not need to cut short your vacation,” Teyla said when they arrived.

“Wasn’t much point without you guys,” was Ronon’s reply.

So, for the last two days - days when they should have been travelling around the south-western US - John and his team have been kicking back at the Alpha site.

There are less crowds and more things to see. John and Ronon are making plans to do some abseiling down into the ravine, while Rodney pesters Colonel Carter, and Teyla presumably enjoys the feeling of not having six billion minds verging on hers.

The Daedelus isn’t due to head back for another four days. John, Teyla and Ronon will return to Earth just before it leaves and be picked up before Teyla has time to develop the headaches again. This afternoon, Rodney’s headed back to Earth to pay a visit to his sister before he vanishes back to Atlantis.

John decreed that they watch the dawn in this morning and keeps an eye on Teyla.

She hasn’t complained of headaches since they left Earth, but he figures it can’t hurt. Just in case.

“You know,” Rodney’s saying to Teyla, “it’s a pity you didn’t get to see more of Earth.”

“I am sorry I did not,” she said. “Perhaps in smaller doses - only a few days at a time.” She looks past Rodney to where John is standing and smiles at him. “John will just have to tell me more stories.”

“I can do that,” he says, with a grin back.

“We took pictures, too,” Ronon adds.

John makes a mental note to download the pic of Teyla sleeping onto a laptop. Headaches may be headaches, but pictures are blackmail material.

Overhead, a chattering chorus of birds make their greeting to the morning as John and his team-mates watch the sun rise.

Maybe it’s not Earth, but here, among his team, John feels at home all the same.


End file.
